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Thursday, January 31, 2008

Show Me the Stardust! Subjectivity of Music: Record you guys, RECORD! More Recordings, Now!

Honestly, the first time I heard Bob Dylan "perform" I was as happy as the day I learned I have to defecate everyday I am alive. I was suddenly the outsider, like Ayla the banished blonde in Clan of the Cave Bear novel series by J.M. Auel. "This is what I have to listen to if I am going to be a cool insider with the girls and guys?" thought I, at the tender age of 12.

Okay, such a reaction deserves some explanation. So, I did some research; this one took a long time. I'd say about 48 seconds later, I realized that Rap did the same to me and caused lower bowel reactions as well.

It turns out, Scatological Music might not be a category at Best Buy, however, I am here to witness and comment, so here it is.

Rap is the new Dylan that burgeons from Irish Pub scat.

Folk music has been coming to us in the present through the outhouses of time for centuries. How we sing and play is only a reverberation of what has been, and the useless sound bytes of what it is today. Today, however it is not live stuff, rather recordings and those recordings go on forever, remashed and sampled.

If you are a musician and you don't record, then you will only become the sunbeam that propels some apish mimick into stardom. You want examples? Here:


From the annals of myspace we get this stuff: "Roger Daughtry Keith Richards Anthony Kiedis Twiggy Jack White Dave Navarro Hugh Laurie And some dead people that I wish were alive... John Lennon ... 'If you think holding hands is all in the figers, grab hold of the soul where the memory lingers.' Megan, Female 20 years old Savannah, GEORGIA United States on myspace ?????

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=5432890

(spell check, dear one) Hey wait, those guys aren't all dead yet!

...Roger Daughtry Mick Jagger MC Hammer Elvis Presley Bob Dylan Snoop Dog Gene Simmons Harry Connick, Jr. Sir/Ms Elton John Bon Voyage' Jovi... you go on and list more in this mess of gimmicks; these are all latent wankers and tossers, because they are a few that come to mind who lived and perished ...off the oats of the live and fully chopped trombonists, fender pickers, upright bassists... and frogs on the way to a gig~ who no 20 year old has heard of because there are no recordings to fast forward to the next generation of listeners! Open letter to all Megan's:

Julie Zuluaga
Luther Hughes
John Hughes
Pribek
Hardly Human (eight piece band for chris' sake!)
The Mackrosoft...
Gary Hodges, and that's just the "H's"

This all comes about because I happened on to a web-site that features CDBaby.com where I find the kinda thing that might keep me from yelling like I am today. I have been angry at the sick prince of anti-music for a decade for sounds to come out of the speakers that aren't anti-music! God has answered an old man's prayer. You too can get sanctified, keep searching.

Fortunately, cdbaby.com features "Real throats, real shuffling, and real hearts; and usually unsung these artists do it better than those who steal, mimick and go to Hair Transplants for aged Rock 'n Roll Men."

You know I look back and my middle school band teacher, Mr. Munson, had more talent than the gathering of excrement that keeps getting re-hashed, and played all over from overhead bose speakers at Krogers to College Station North-Gate. The bouquet has become unbearable.

Show me you got the stardust in you. Come out, come out where ever you are, and record the living daylights out of your PC's, let us subjective half-brained listeners hear it. Start your own underground Area 42, for Chris's sake, if record companies are all prick-ly's, circumnavigate them.

There is unlimited band-width in photonics, like a smizzzural gillion levels of light waves available to you real shaker/choppers. What I would give to be in a hole-in-the-wall, listenin' to dusty Martins, with Billy the Hat drawin' from some back factory of lyrics. But I am limited too, like so many aged prime 'Bay Boomers (Pribek.net). So I gotta bring it home. I don't care if it sounds like someone holding a Hello Kitty microphone up to your performance: Record ya' bastards!

In conclusion: Many of us are sick of the Beatles, I certainly am. Lots of us don't have a radio on anymore, its too damn feeble. What do I like? Well, record your best chops and let me see if that is the stuff. Listeners, yeah you Megan, go to cdbaby and start a revolution!

There I wrote it. That's all I've got today. >pd

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